


Purest of Day, Embodiment of Night

by RainbowPools



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: A relatively grumpy Ravus, A slightly demure Prompto, A very affectionate Noctis, Alternate universe (modern and medieval), Fantasy AU, Harassment, Inconvenient romance, M/M, Multi, Sensuality rules, Sexual elements, add tags as we go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:54:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21517798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowPools/pseuds/RainbowPools
Summary: Rivals for eternity, Ifrit rules the day and Bahamut governs the night. In this regard, solars can’t venture out after sunset lest they fall prey to lunars. And lunars can’t venture out past sunrise lest they fall victim to the solars. So, when Prompto, a dazzling solar, finds himself lost amidst a black forest, a world of trouble meets him. If there is one bright side, that night fae is awful attractive.
Relationships: Minor Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia - Relationship, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Ravus Nox Fleuret/Ardyn Izunia
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34





	1. A Particularly Peculiar Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this on a whim. Hope you like :)

Prompto’s back met the ringed trunk of an oak, affectively trapping him within the walls of the forest. The sky was black, unseen by the thick leaves that stretched in a frightening canopy above. The forest looked so different at night. Nothing looked familiar. Not the endless tree line, or perpetual grass, or even the bioluminescent flora. He leveled his violet gaze with the bushes that wrestled before him. His pursuer was nearing. Prompto cocked his gun and aimed, every fiber of his being tremulous and quaking. He hadn’t meant to venture out so late, but his refrigerator and pantry were thinning on account of his own unwillingness to go grocery shopping. He suspected that sunset, the peace period of the day, would be plenty of time to grab what he needed and leave. His presumptions were incorrect however. The sun dropped sooner than expected, and the city was littered with lunars before he made it out the store. Was seeking refuge in the nearby forest the wisest of forethoughts? Hardly. But was it his only option? Quite so.

“I’m afraid you’re out of luck,” a man broke from the wrestling bushes. His silhouette was well drawn and he looked massive by nature. At least, that’s how the multitudinous layers of apparel he wore made it appear. A black hat crowned his head, not hiding his handsome, aged face. Heavy, honey colored eyes peered at Prompto through thick lashes, and stubble tickled his chin. His merlot wine hair curled about his shoulders and splashed into his face, and the accented baritone that rumbled from his throat was a bit too charming.

“A leach,” Prompto didn’t hesitate to fire his gun, lodging a bullet right into the leach’s shoulder. The leach glanced down at the bullet, smirking at the beads of blood that sprinkled around it. “I apologize, but that simply won’t work at all,” he inclined his head toward Prompto, who in turn fired another eight bullets into varying expanses on his body. The leach was unaffected by them, taking slow, deliberate steps toward Prompto. Prompto’s breaths accelerated, heart throbbing beneath his ribs. Leaches were likely the most dangerous of lunars. They had the ability to obtain the powers and bodies of whoever’s blood they drank from, solitary creatures whom were beautiful enough to lure in their prey. Prompto ducked to the side and ran, but the leach was on him in seconds. He hit the ground with a thud, cool dirt pooling under his back. His silver gun clattered against a tree root nearby, and the crushing weight of the leach glued him to the earth. Feverish though it was, he kicked and thrashed. A choked sob left him as a gloved hand settled under his chin and tilted it, as soft red violet strands brushed his lips, as an electrical sting spread through his neck from the leach’s fangs. His strength left him in slow order, leaving his breathing to labor, his vision to blur, his head to swirl. Whatever sound echoed around him was drowned to an incoherent muffle. In a matter of moments, he lost consciousness.

... ... 

Leach’s aimed to kill more often than not, so needless to say, Prompto was beyond surprised when he could open his eyes again. He tested his throat with a resenting groan, and heaved a sigh to know he was alive. He stretched his limbs across the four postered bed he was on, twisting his body until he received a pleasant pop from his hips, shoulders, and back. His neck tingled where the leach had sunk his fangs, and his body was laden with fatigue. His vision was fine, but a thin fog still clouded his mind. He blinked up at the intricate light fixture hanging from the ceiling above him, biting his lip in contemplation of where he was.

“Ahh, awake are we?” the bedroom door swung open, giving way for another man to stride into the room. He also had a charming lilt and face to match. His verdant eyes were analyzing, further accentuated by the glasses. He had smooth skin, sand blonde hair sweeping along his forehead. He was dressed in a resplendent black suit. 

“Who are you?” Prompto rose to sit, leaning against the backboard and caressing his tender neck. His fingers brushed over the leach’s severe bite mark, and he winced.

The man bowed, “My name is Ignis Scientia, adviser to Master Noctis.”

“What happened to me?” Prompto quizzed.

Ignis shook his head, “Master Noctis brought you here. Shall I fetch him for you?”

“Uuuuuuhhhhhh sure,” Prompto fidgeted with his fingers. Ignis nodded, exiting with the same vigor that he entered. Prompto yawned, crawling from bed and staggering to the nearest floor-to-ceiling window. He slumped against the glass and stared. Night hung its cloak, blackness embellished with the shadows that crept in and out. A courtyard sprawled open from the manor Prompto was in, filled with people and alight with lanterns and fixtures. The characters danced to reverberating music, played games, and even swam in the enormous pool. “What is going on?” Prompto mumbled. He was a solar as opposed to a lunar, so he hardly understood anything about the traditions of the night. And he had heard far too many stories. Some had depicted the lunars as sybarites who lived comfortable lives, foregoing regards to anyone but themselves. Others depicted lunars as criminals enslaved by Bahamut, also foregoing regards to anyone but themselves.

“Hey,” so called Master Noctis sauntered into the bedroom, and Prompto cupped a hand over his mouth at the young man’s appearance. He wasn’t tall nor muscular, but instead petite and slender. His skin was unmarked, rich and snow kissed. It was in deep contrast to his eyes, a curious blue that sapphires envied, overlain with thick black lashes. His hair, corvid and corybantic, was glazed with iridescent indigos and lavenders. The black cloak draping his shoulders was silken, dotted with golden flecks as a subtle tribute to the night sky. His outfit was quite revealing, and Prompto wasn’t quite sure how to describe the fitted ensemble, made with ornate lace and satin pieces. He wore jewelry too. Obsidian crystals imbedded in silver bracelets, a moon charm dangling from a chain at his throat.

“Y-you’re Noctis?” Prompto’s face was warmed pink. The lunars sure had a propensity for comely gentlemen.

“Noctis Lucis Caelum, night fae and current head of my coven, House Caelum,” Noctis stooped into a grandiose genuflection and rose with a jocose grin, “But please, just call me Noct. I don’t care for the formal crap.”

“Okay ... Noct,” Prompto struggled to hold his gaze, “I’m Prompto.”

“Prompto, cute,” Noctis tasted his name and smiled.

“So uh, could you tell me what happen to me exactly?”

“You’ll have to tell yourself,” Noctis rolled his shoulders in a stretch, “Seems like you were out at night, and I’m ninety percent positive solars aren’t supposed to be out at night. Anyways, Iggy and I were out walking, on our way to collect the catering for a party I’m throwing right now when we found you in the forest. You were knocked out by a silver gun, and your neck was bleeding. Felt merciful tonight so me and Iggy took you home and had one of the nurses doctor on you.”

“So, I’m at your house?”

“Yeah. Welcome to house Caelum,” Noctis drew a hand through his hair, “Was it a vampire attack?”

“No, it was a leach.”

“Leach?” Noctis raised his eyebrows, “Leaches don’t usually leave their prey alive.”

“I know, it was bizarre,” Prompto studied his hands, “ **He** was bizarre.”

“Maybe I recognize him. Leaches aren’t exactly common folk. If he’s important, I probably know’m.”

“He talks funny. He’s pretty big, kinda old looking, big golden eyes, purply reddish hair, lots and lots of layers. His shirt looks like a coffee filter.”

“Oh, that’s my uncle Ardyn. He’s cool, just kinda creepy. Good guy though.”

Prompto nodded, “Well, I really appreciate the rescue, but I gotta bounce.”

“Now? While it’s still dark?” Noctis glanced out the window.

“My friends, they’ll worry,” Prompto touched his heart.

“It ain’t safe. You know that right? And lunars aren’t the only danger.”

“What do you mean?”

Noctis looked away, “Well, I’m not really supposed to talk about this, but let’s just say Lord Bahamut isn’t fond of trespassers.”

“Is Bahamut unfriendly? King Ifrit is benign.”

Noctis’ head was shaking and he put a finger to his lips. Prompto sunk to his knees with a sigh, lips forming a pout.

“I have an idea,” Noctis stepped before Prompto, “Lord Bahamut isn’t fond of trespassers, but I’m sure he wouldn’t care if you were a voluptuary.”

“I’m sorry, a what?” Prompto untucked his head from his arms, upturning his face at Noctis.

“Us lunars are more often than not sensualists or voluptuaries. Sensualists seek pleasure, and voluptuaries give it.”

Prompto still looked lost, so Noctis continued, “Guess solars don’t have anything like that. Okay, you’ve met Ignis yeah?”

Prompto nodded.

“He’s my voluptuary. He takes care of me, makes awesome food, keeps my bath and bed warm, stuff like that.”

“So, if I were to be your voluptuary, I’d do stuff like that?” Prompto asked.

“No. You’d help me in a more **sensual** way,” as he said this, Noctis couldn’t help sifting through the smaller’s sunny blonde cowlicks. Prompto recoiled against the window with a gasping breath, eyes just a bit wider and fair lips parted. He knew _exactly_ what that meant. He got to his feet, “Sorry Noct. I just can’t do that. I, I’ll find my own way back.” He headed for the exit.

“What city do you live in?” Noctis watched him.

“Tenebrae.”

“Well, this is Lucis. It’s like an hour away. And that’s by car alone,” Noctis said. Prompto jerked his phone from his pocket, pulling up a map from google and frowning at the results. “Do you have a horse I can take?”

“Lord Bahamut would still catch you.”

“A car?”

“Can’t lend you mine.”

“An escort?”

“Would be charged with treason for trespasser association when Lord Bahamut caught you.”

Prompto’s chin hung.

“Uncle Ardyn is one of Lord Bahamut’s voluptuaries though. Maybe things’d smooth over if he took you back.”

“No,” Prompto wasn’t eager to return to that which near killed him, now had his powers, and could shift into him whenever saw fit. He remembered his manners and cleared his throat, “No thank you, I mean.” A sheepish bow followed.

“So, what’ll you do?” Noctis leaned on the doorframe, his cloak dusting his skin.

“Would you mind if I took a little time to think about things?”

“Sure. I gotta party to entertain anyhow,” Noctis slunk from the room, retreating to the excitement of the courtyard. Prompto fell apart on the bed, cheek pressed into the pillow. He spotted his gun propped on the bedside table and huffed. This is what he got for being too lazy to go to the store, stuck in the night filled with licentious lunars with the only safe way out involving becoming one of them. He hoped his friend Gladio wouldn’t be too worried when he woke to find him gone. He wished he was one of the solars with teleporting abilities. He didn’t know when he drifted off to sleep.

... ...

When he next awoke, it was inside the bed rather than atop it. Sunlight filtered through the windows, and he yawned. Red crept down his neck, spreading over his chest and touching his stomach when it donned on him that he had been stripped of all but his undergarment. Noctis was splayed out over him, equally lacking in clothing. His ebon hair stroked Prompto’s chin, his soft face buried in his freckled chest. Noctis’ milky skin was refreshingly cool, and impossibly smooth. Still Prompto jumped up, heart thudding, and lunged for the clothes folded in a corner chair. They were his, so he wriggled into them as Noctis rolled on his side with a disgruntled groan, tunneling under the duvet. Prompto took his gun and left, his only vestige a thank you letter on the living room coffee table. Lunars were nocturnal, so the new afternoon should pave him a bright path back to Tenebrae.

Unfortunately, he was quite wrong.


	2. A Small Series of Sullen Situations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto’s escape fails.

The silence of Lucis made Prompto wonder if it was a strictly lunar city. Tenebrae wasn’t. As soon as the sun sank, the lunars poured from their homes. And as soon as the moon dropped, solars were spilling from theirs. Lucis seemed quite different however. The reaching buildings about him were quiet, and there was not a single person walking down the sidewalks, not one vehicle trafficking the streets, nothing but the birds and insects. Prompto’s gun was resting snug against his hip, hanging from his belt as he strolled. He glanced around, absorbing the city’s architectural majesty. It had a style all its own, not quite Victorian but not quite modern. The sun grinned on charming lakes, making them glitter. There were a ton of Bahamutesque churches, ebony with ornamented spires and tall, stained glass windows. The pews inside looked to be black marble seated with blue velvet. The streets were wide, and their were staircases, railed with polished black wood, leading up to concrete platforms. Framed with swirling balustrades, they existed with picnic tables and astounding bird’s eye vistas of the city. Churches weren’t the only worship to Bahamut. There were statues reaching several stories and portraits of him as well. Prompto checked his phone, his earbuds in as he listened to and sang along with his music and reviewed the digital map. He was making slow time. But that was to be expected when measuring the blood he lost the night prior. He had all afternoon though. Gladio had texted him earlier, and Prompto was sure to explain the situation and promise his safe return.

“And what, is a solar doing in Lucis?” the voice was drawling, slow and terrifying, powerful. Prompto heard the booming bass rumble through his earbuds, and was quick to snatch them out and whirl around toward the voice’s origin. There was an enormous curtain of black fog before him, and it parted and faded in a gradual pull to reveal four distinct figures. The first Prompto recognized as Bahamut, as he matched the multitudinous statues and paintings dotting the metropolis. He was enormous, around eight feet at least. An armor of rippling muscle was hidden by extravagant robes of black and gray, and expensive silver accessories imbedded with black crystals. His face was obscured by a black mask, multifaceted with spikes and cones. All one could see was his large blue eyes, and whispers of coffee brown hair about his neck. Prompto stepped back, gazing up into his deep frowning mask. Beside Bahamut was Ardyn, now dressed in layering robes of varying hues of red, from scarlet to maroon. He was on one knee, head turning or cocking as he sized up Prompto. On Bahamut’s left was a man who looked a frightening bit like Noctis. He knelt as well, robed in black and blue. His feathery black hair hung in his face, just shy of hiding his pair of pensive blue eyes. He was just as small as Noctis too. Behind him was another man, far taller and athletic with muscle. Dusty silver hair bisected his back in a long braid, solemn red eyes contrasting against a pale face. They all had weapons, Bahamut with abundant blades dangling from iron rings on his robes, Ardyn with a daunting red scythe wedged in the ground beside him, the Noctis look alike with a lengthy, luminous blue sword, and the final with a silver glaive. Prompto lost his air, mouth agape and violet eyes enlarged.

“Surprised?” Bahamut seemed amused, massive arms crossed over his equally massive chest.

“Uhh. I...” Prompto wasn’t sure what to say.

“I presume you know who I am?” Bahamut glowered down at him.

“Lord Bahamut of night,” Prompto slumped to his knees, hands folded in his lap and head upturned. His heart beat so hard and fast, the rest of his chest felt empty.

“Allow me to introduce my voluptuaries then,” Bahamut gestured to the three flanking him, “Ardyn Izunia the leach, Somnus Lucis Caelum the night fae, and Gilgamesh the illusionist.”

Prompto said nothing, unable to stop the fierce trembling of his fragile form.

“Again, what is a solar doing in my city?”

“I...” Prompto stopped short of blurting the truth in fear Noctis may be charged with crimes for assisting him. He bit his lip, incoherent fragments of a solution racing his mind. One large hand cupped Prompto’s chin. 

“Your silence is irritating,” Bahamut growled. Prompto yelped as his body was scooped from the pavement and then dropped. He hit the ground with a grunt, the pain of the impact showing just how high up Bahamut had flung him. He groaned, dragging himself back to his knees.

“You smell like Noctis,” Ardyn spoke up just before Bahamut could reach for Prompto’s hair. Prompto glanced at him. Ardyn moved his shoulders, the corners of his mouth twitching in a smile as he nodded.

“Y-Yeah. I’ve been around him,” Prompto stammered, unsure of what he was indicating.

“What relationship have you with Noctis Lucis Caelum?” Bahamut asked. Prompto watched Ardyn from the corner of his eye. The latter rose to his feet, contriving a V with two fingers and then leaning back into Bahamut. He took Bahamut’s hand in his own, gently touching his lips to his knuckles. Bahamut’s gaze softened for a second as he ran a hand through Ardyn’s mess of hair.

Prompto got the picture, “I’m his voluptuary.”

“You’re his voluptuary? Then why aren’t you in bed with him?” Bahamut asked.

“Uhhh, I just finished shopping for him?” Prompto rummaged through his hair. He materialized the grocery bags he got last night, allowing Bahamut a glance, then banished them back to his pocket dimension.

Bahamut nodded gravely, “Then you better get back to him.” Prompto didn’t hesitate. He spun on his heel and dashed back toward Noctis’ mansion, shooting Gladio a text regarding the change in situation. The door was unlocked when he returned, the house quiet. He gathered the untouched thank you letter on the coffee table and crumpled it, settling down on the couch with a sigh. 

... ...

Ravus Nox Fleuret had a fondness for sunbathing. Not at all for the appeal of a tan; his albinism would never allow it anyways, but for the warmth. The sun was bright, causing red to flood his closed eyelids. His hair blew in wisps and his skin heated. There was nothing he loved more than to be shrouded in warmth. It reminded him a great deal of Lunafreya’s incapsulating embraces, and he was trying to break the terrible habit of napping in her empty bedroom. Her death was not well received, and Ravus had been exhausting himself to skin and bone in attempt to eradicate the pain of losing her. He considered giving up on several occasions, but ultimately decided against it in favor of making Lunafreya proud. So it was that he contemplated piece treaty possibilities in hopes of escaping his current one, as he lounged, splayed across a brocade chaise nestled in the comfort of his enormous front garden. Like House Caelum was the most known and trusted aristocracy of night, so was House Fleuret of day. And just as Noctis stood as the sole remaining member of House Caelum, Ravus was quite the same with House Fleuret. Somnus Lucis Caelum and Ardyn Izunia were both stripped of their powers as Caelum members in order to become voluptuaries of Lord Bahamut himself, whilst Regis was assassinated by an unidentified solar. Sylva Nox Fleuret and her husband both perished in a sabotaged business trip Ravus didn’t care to recount the details of, and Lunafreya’s body eventually gave into an illness passed on by what Ravus could only depict as a zombie, which had had its way with her at age twelve while the two of them were hunting bioluminescent flora for their mother and father’s funeral. Bahamut and Ifrit may have been fine with letting anarchy and debacle drag on between night and day, but their citizens weren’t. So a treaty was composed. Noctis would marry Lunafreya as a sign of peace in hopes of convincing the sovereigns of day and night to form an alliance. Lunafreya died just months ago however, leading to the compromise that Ravus would take her place.

Ravus did _not_ want to take her place.

He rolled on his stomach, arms crossed and chin resting on top. Noctis was insufferable, an indolent sensualist with no regard for responsibility, manners, or even personal space.

“Ravus!” Gladio’s rough inflections echoed through the air, and Ravus soon found his sun eclipsed by a robust shadow. He sat, leaning back on his hands, and blinked up at Gladio. “What is it?”

“Prompto’s been ... stranded.”

“Care to elaborate upon this accusation Gladiolus?” Ravus tipped his face, coming off more icy than he intended. Gladio offered his phone, open to his conversation with Prompto. Ravus scrutinized the digital text with studious eyes, pink lips pressing in a taut frown. Ravus didn’t care directly for Prompto, but they were mutual friends through Gladio. Ravus sighed and stood, “I’ll do what I can to settle a meeting with Noctis. Perhaps we can retrieve Prompto from there.”

“‘Ppreciate it,” Gladio dipped down, clamping Ravus inna tight hug. Ravus cringed, body stiffening to a log. He never accepted physical affections from anyone but Lunafreya. Gladio was a lunar sensualist before he wound up a bodyguard for Ravus though, and therefore couldn’t resist the involuntary notions of physical love. Ravus closed his eyes, annoyed.

.. .. 

“You can’t protect that boy. Bahamut’s interested and I suspect it’s because he wants to use him to anger Ifrit,” Somnus was splayed across Bahamut’s grand bed, stripped of all his clothing from the recent passionate session with his lord, in which he and Ardyn spent themselves trying to please Bahamut. Gilgamesh nodded as he hovered over Somnus, wiping him down with a warm, damp cloth. Somnus hissed as the cloth chafed the impressive bruise on his neck.

“Sorry,” Gilgamesh brushed a kiss to his ear.

“And that is precisely why I must protect him,” Ardyn was curled into a blanket, nestled on one of many window seats scattering the palace. He had taken the sadistic brunt of his lord’s erotic identity. He always did, as though he loathed him, he felt Somnus was far too small to handle it. He tucked his knees into his chest, shrinking inside his blanket cocoon. “If we are to find peace, if I am to be free again, Bahamut mustn’t poke at Ifrit’s patience the way he does. I don’t care what you think.”

“Your funeral Brother,” Somnus shrugged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y’all enjoyed this second installment and look forward to the next.  
> Take care :)


	3. Official

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With no other option, Prompto agrees to work for Noctis.

There wasn’t much to do around Noctis’ mansion while all were snoozing, leaving Prompto to amble about aimlessly or doze on the settee for half an hour at a time at most. He’d get up and take pictures, sparingly so he’d have more to take when his naps failed him. The Caelum manor certainly had a lot of promise in photography, especially in the courtyard. He also went back and forth with Gladio over text. They conversed about no important thing save for his possible rescue through Ravus. He was relieved, not sure if he could ever stand to be Noctis’ voluptuary. Red kissed his cheeks whenever the thought was raised, though to why he hadn’t a clue. He was back on the couch by the time the sun had sank, having watched it set in a spew of warm hues. Now the sky was dyed purple, slowly fading into shades of ultramarine and ink black whilst the moon trudged its ascent. It was around nine by the time he saw a familiar face. Humming softly, Ignis advanced down the decorated stairs and circled into the living room. He made for the kitchen, then rerouted his course upon seeing Prompto. “Good evening,” he offered a polite nod as he stepped before him.

“Uh hi, Ignis was it?” Prompto stroked the base of his neck.

“Indeed, and Noct told me you’re Prompto,” Ignis nodded once more.

“Yup,” Prompto flashed a smile. The two fell into silence, allowing the awkwardness of strangers to settle.

“Well, I have to prepare breakfast for Noct. Would you like to accompany me?” Ignis gesticulated toward the kitchen.

“Breakfast?” Prompto tossed a look out the window, catching the silvery moon on a black canvas. He returned his gaze to Ignis, flummoxed.

“Yes, breakfast. He **is** lunar after all,” Ignis said.

Prompto giggled and rubbed a path up and down his arm, “Guess I forgot that little detail. That’s gonna take some getting use too.” The last bit melted into an overwhelmed sigh as he leaned back in his seat.

“So, would you like to come?” Ignis asked.

“Yeah sure,” Prompto warbled, hopping from his seat. He could use a distraction. “Uh Thank you,” he followed Ignis into the kitchen, which was no less sumptuous than the rest of the house. The floors were glossed to a shimmer, the counters matching. The cabinets were in copious supply, and Prompto admired the evident meticulousness that had gone into their organization as Ignis retrieved ingredients and preheated one of two ovens. Prompto wasn’t sure whether he should offer to help or stay out of the way, resulting in his nervous bouncing in the corner. He wouldn’t allow another uncomfortable silence fall between them again, if anything. “Sorry for asking but, you don’t feel lunar,” he played with blonde cowlicks of his hair.

“Don’t I?” Ignis was too busy making pancake batter to raise an eyebrow.

“No,” Prompto laced his fingers through one another, “Your vibration is, positive. You feel familiar, like light.”

Ignis chuckled as he shaped the pancakes on the stove, “You are correct. I am a solar, from Tenebrae actually. I came to work here in hopes of tipping the scale.” Prompto hummed in response, a whimsical ring in his tone. He always appreciated those who tried to _tip the scale,_ as they called it. Tipping the scale was just another modern term for obtaining peace. Throughout Lucis, Tenebrae, Niflheim, and Altissia, interspecies employment had been allowed in an effort toward peace. That is, the houses governing each city had made it legal for solars to work for lunars and vice versa in a second attempt to show Ifrit and Bahamut that they could work together. 

“How’d you get use to the sleeping cycle?” Prompto asked. The pair had begun speaking freely about their species and lives. He learned that Ignis was an archivist, a solar who could learn everything about whatever it touched.

“It took quite a bit of work, but with the right scheduling and enough encouragement from Noct, I was waking at night and sleeping during the day,” Ignis examined the pancakes, deciding they were ready. Prompto chuckled, stopping short of asking another question as another joined them. Noctis sauntered into the kitchen, hardly seeming alive with his disheveled hair and heavy blue eyes. His body was hidden in a black robe, and he covered his mouth as he yawned an “Evenin Specs.”

“Good timing Noct, the food is ready,” Ignis stacked three pancakes on a porcelain plate, adding fruit and yogurt as sides. 

“Would you like coffee?” he set the plate on the dining table and then got to work on he and Prompto’s plates.

“No thanks Iggy,” Noctis fished in the refrigerator, dragging out a carton of chocolate milk with a groan showing just how much he hated waking. He poured himself a cup, then shook his carton with the most enthusiasm he could muster and tilted his head in Prompto’s direction.

“Huh? Oh.. sure,” Prompto nodded in the name of being polite and in regard that he secretly _adored_ chocolate milk, and watched Noctis pour him a cup. Noctis handed him his cup and hobbled to the dining table, slumping in the chair before his plate.

“For me?” Prompto gasped as Ignis passed him a plate identical to Noctis’.

“I do hope you didn’t assume I’d let you starve,” Ignis pulled out a chair for Prompto and then sat on Noctis’ other side.

“Thanks. That’s sweet of you,” Prompto settled into the chair and began to eat.

“So, what’d you do while I was asleep?” food seemed to rouse Noctis from his sleep fog. He kept blowing his hair from his eyes. His pancakes were drowned in syrup and he dropped his fruit in his yogurt.

“Um, you knew that I was awake?” Prompto was still confounded at eating breakfast around nine thirty p.m. At home he would devour two bowls of cereal for a midnight snack, but that was a completely different concept.

“Yeah,” Noctis coughed on a strawberry leaf, “As a night fae I can enter people’s dreams, either through my own or while they’re sleeping. Noticed your mind wasn’t open for me to enter, so you had to be up right?”

“Right,” Prompto breathed and tensed under Noctis’ quizzical gaze. “I was kinda gonna go home, but it didn’t really work out,”

“Oh?” Noctis leaned his elbows on the table and cozied his chin on his hands,”Bahamut caught you? You’re okay right? Nothing hurts? He’s kinda aggressive.”

“I’m fine, really.”

“Please be more careful.”

“I’m sorry,” Prompto’s eyes found his lap.

“You’re good,” Noctis gave a flippant grin, “I’d love to know how you made it out alive without pissing him off though.”

“It was just as you said. He had no problem with voluptuaries,” Prompto’s tone had a thin overlay of melancholia to it.

“Oh, so does that mean?” Noctis straightened his back, and the refulgence his blue eyes adopted made Prompto consider the greater meaning behind a sensualist and voluptuary’s relationship. Perhaps it was a symbol of political power or social prowess? A notion of companionship? He heard Ignis scold Noctis’ to calm, delivering a pat to his shoulder as he did so.

Prompto exhaled and closed his eyes, “Yeah, guess I’ll be working with you for a while Noct. Gotta warn ya though, I know nothing about being a voluptuary.”

“Ignis and I’ll help you out, and I promise I’m not cruel,” Noctis winked.

... ... 

Lucis was lovely under the sun, but it dazzled beneath the moon. The gardens were bioluminescent, the buildings alight with activity, and sumptuous light fixtures illuminated the roads. Noctis parked his car at a strip mall, hopping out and rounding the vehicle to help Prompto out. Prompto took his pale hand and slipped from the car, violet eyes heavy. It was about one in the morning. If things were going _his_ way, he’d definitely be asleep by now. Things were in fact _not_ going his way however. He had spent the better part of the night conversing with Ignis over the dos and don’ts of servitude to a sensualist, Noctis especially. Noctis was taking him shopping now, having wanted to get him more lunar friendly clothing. Prompto squinted at the headlights of passing cars, the glowing billboards, the illuminations overhead. The strip mall was alive with people, lovely ladies and gentlemen dressed in finery trading conversation as they poured in and out of stores.

“How ya hangin?” Noctis locked his car and swung his keys onto a loop of his shirt.

“Fine,” Prompto lowered his camera to hide his yawn, tucking it into his pocket dimension.

“Lemme know when you get tired,” Noctis headed off toward an arbitrary shop, “The night has a nasty effect on solars until they get used to it. Just ask Iggy.”

“Okay,” Prompto trailed after. The store was nice, carpet floors and classic jazz. Whispers of silk, satin, cotton, and lace draped from racks and stacked on shelves. The customers were soft spoken and admiring, weaving between clothing displays and vanishing into dressing rooms. Noctis looked right at home, slender figure accented by his black cloak, stunning jewelry, and leather fastenings. Prompto’s subconsciousness probed as he scrutinized his own outfit, simple white cardigan over a red design T with jeans and old high tops. His face flushed.

Noctis tipped his head back in sweet laughter, “You’re fine I promise. You look nice, just, not like a lunar. But hey, that’s why we’re here isn’t it?”

Prompto nodded and Noctis continued, “So take a look around and pick out something you think you’ll like. Price tags don’t matter.”

“Must be nice,” Prompto chuckled. Noctis flashed him a humored smile and flicked his wrist toward the racks. Prompto did as was told, scurrying into the forest of clothing racks and perusing the fabrics. He bit his lip. How could lunars stand to be so revealing, and didn’t they ever get cold? He entertained the idea of just wearing a suit as Ignis did, but eventually voted against it in favor of a collar that didn’t stifle his breathing. Noctis breezed by him, doing some shopping of his own. At length Prompto studied his options. He had found a few pieces he enjoyed, Cotton blouses with loose fitting jackets. Most of them were translucent, but it was more coverage than what the other items offered. Prompto huffed, on the search for pants now. He really didn’t understand lunar culture at all. He reconvened with Noctis at the front counter, a layer of flamboyant lunar clothes draped over his arm.

“Find everything okay?” Noctis asked, sifting through his wallet for either a credit or debit.

“Yeah,” Prompto raised his arm for emphasis.

“Everything fit okay?” Noctis decided on debit, keeping it between his fingers and dropping the few clothes he had gotten on the counter. He gestured for Prompto to do the same.

“In all honesty, I was too embarrassed to try them on,” Prompto said. Noctis tipped his head, examining Prompto’s current ensemble and then the apparel he had swung over his arm. “I think they’ll fit,” he mused. Prompto’s lips quirked and he folded his clothes on the counter. The cashier scanned them all, taking Noctis’ debit and loading their purchased items into four bags. Noctis heaved the bags onto his wrists and headed from the exit.

“You don’t think your outfits are revealing? I mean, you’re not embarrassed about them?” Prompto jogged up beside him.

“Nah,” Noctis paused, pulling on his silken black cloak. The glittering gold flecks on it caught the moon. He ran his hands down his sheer black pants, fidgeting with the leather accents of his garb. “Is there something wrong with it?” he straightened his cloak.

“No,” Prompto shook his head, “It’s lovely. Solars don’t have anything like it though.” He moved to step closer, but lost his footing. He gasped, the concrete racing to meet him. Noctis’ arm shot under his back and the other coiled around his chest. He sunk to one knee, Prompto in his embrace, and peered down at the blonde.

“I don’t know where that came from,” Prompto’s head was tipped back, lips parted and stomach twirling with nausea. His thoughts were spinning, incoherent, vision watery as he peaked up at Noctis through drooping lashes.

“I think your body’s had enough of the night,” Noctis gave a gentle laugh and hoisted Prompto into his arms. Prompto slumped in his hold, berating himself for being so incredibly weak. Noctis began a traipse back to the parking lot, and the subtle undulation of his chest and bounce in his step eased Prompto into slumber.

... ... 

So it seemed the lunars were doting by nature. That was evident in the way Noctis carried Prompto, stripped him and dressed him in a T-shirt for comfort, tucked him in bed, and kissed his forehead goodnight. When next Prompto roused it was to the familiar warmth of the sun streaming through arched bedroom windows. He turned in the blankets with a groan, groping for his phone. He found it on the nightstand, checking the time and leaving it to rest. Ten thirty a.m. He couldn’t remember a time he had slept in so late. Noctis was in the room too. He was settled in a leather chair before an oak desk, conversing with someone over video chat via computer. Prompto couldn’t see who, buried under a mountain of silken sheets and left to stare at Noctis’ nest of black hair, but he’d recognize that acerbic hiss of a voice anywhere.

“Quite some time has past since our last meeting, hasn’t it Noctis?” Ravus’ voice rang from the computer.

“Yeah. Haven’t seen you since the funeral. You’re as beautiful as ever Ravus,” Noctis lead with a compliment, following his lunar decorum.

“And you too are looking stunning,” Ravus brushed a fraying white strand from his face.

“How are you holding up?” Noctis pressed his elbows on the desk before him.

“Fine thank you. How goes yourself?” Ravus replied.

“I’m doin good. Why the sudden call?”

“Have you forgotten the multitudinous arrangements we need make for our wedding?”

“You’re seriously ready to start on that?” Noctis leaned back in his chair and massaged through his black locks.

“We can not withhold it forever,” Ravus exhaled. The pair exchanged glances. Noctis’ expression was strained with distaste and Ravus appeared almost forlorn with the desperation of avoiding this. Noctis’ stomach dipped. He hardly liked Ravus, but the two got along as children. And Ravus looked so canine. Those large heterochromatic eyes under bowing lashes, and pink pouting lips were difficult to dismiss.

Noctis ran his fingers along his keyboard, “Ravus, you know I’ll take care of you once we’re hitched and all that. You’ve been through a lot. I know Luna would’ve liked for me to do that. ”

Ravus interlaced his fingers and drew them to his lips, “That’s talk for much later Noctis.” But a tenuous red hue from the night fae’s ministration dusted his cheeks, “For now we must consider where to begin.”

“A party?” Noctis yawned.

“What a typically lunar response. Why not a public announcement?”

“What a typically **solar** response,” Noctis tossed his words back at him.

“With a public announcement we can get the word out quickly. It could take place during sunset so everyone can attend, and I can retrieve Prompto from you that way.”

“Aaaahhhhhhh, so that’s what this is about,” Noctis folded his arms behind his head, “You’re here to steel my new employee. He didn’t tell me he knew you.”

“That’s not my concern,” Ravus whipped his head.

“Listen, getting Prompto back ... it’s not gonna be that easy,” Noctis caressed the nape of his neck.

“You would stand in my way?” Ravus rumbled.

“No, it’s ... something else ...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Take care :)


End file.
